Vegeta Takes A Stroll
by Vegeta Goddess
Summary: Vegeta takes a stroll and meets President Bush (Its 3am, I'm tired)


**A/N – I hate you all. I hope this fic breaks your fragile little minds with its inane ramblings and nonsensical gibberish! It's 3am…I'm tired.**

**~*~**

It was a lovely Sunday morning and Vegeta decided to take a stroll. Although normally the prince of all saiyans would have stalked or possibly sauntered through the streets, today he was feeling rather temperamental  - no doubt this was due to all of the liquid laundry detergent he had consumed earlier. He liked lemon-scented detergent the best but would settle for eucalyptus if nothing else were available.

As Vegeta strolled through the wide empty streets, he came across a lovely green park filled with the sounds of playing children, barking dogs and sexually frustrated teens. Deciding that these sounds were not to his liking, Vegeta blew the park up with his Gallic Gun attack and set about kicking the ashes of his enemies. As he kicked the remains of his foes – people who had squandered their lives savings on the luxuries of family and home – the saiyan prince became aware of a shadowy figure watching him the from the shadowy shadows.

"Who are you, Fool?" The prince shouted, his beady black eyes fastening on the horribly unfashionable dark sunglasses the man war. "Have you not the intelligence to dress for the weather?" Vegeta waved his arms at the sunny sunshine; unable to comprehend why someone would want to block out the sun's shiny rays. He himself loved looking up into the sunlight!

"Well, first let me kind of step back and talk about intelligence in general, if I might." The shadowy man stepped forward, showing himself to be none other then American president George Bush.

Rubbing his sun damaged eyes, Vegeta squinted and then puffed out his chest. "Do not talk to me about intelligence, Fool! I am Vegeta, the most intelligent saiyan that ever lived! If anyone should talk of intelligence it is I, not some human who wears clothing inappropriate for walking" Vegeta fumed as President Bush ignored him and continued to talk.

"Intelligence," He rambled inanely, "is a vital part of fighting and winning the war against the terrorists. It is…" President Bush paused and pulled a sheet of paper from his pocked before clearing his throat and continuing. "…Because the war against terrorists is a war against individuals who hide in caves in remote parts of the world, individuals who have these kind of shadowy networks, individuals who deal with rogue nations. So we need a good intelligence system. We need _really_ good intelligence."

"What?" Vegeta barked, not understanding the gibberish that President Bush had spewed at him. "What is this nonsense about people in caves and shadowy networks? I care not for intelligence systems! I care only for myself!" The wild haired prince tossed his head and stamped his foot, sure that the inane President would surely get the hint and cease talking. "If anyone should be at war with cave dwelling shadowy individuals it is I!"

President Bush frowned at Vegeta, annoyed that his target audience was resisting his mind warping speech. None the less he continued to speak, undeterred from the dull gleam in Vegeta's eye.

"There is a lot of investigations going on about the intelligence service, particularly in the Congress, and that's good as well. The Congress has got the capacity to look at the intelligence gathering without giving away state secrets. And I look forward to all the investigations and looks."

"You speak in riddles!" Vegeta stated, his mind decomposing from the idiocy he'd been exposed to. "What looks will you be looking forward to? You make no sense! Speak sense or I shall be forced to end your life!" He glared warningly at the American president. "If anyone is to be speaking riddles to I, Prince Vegeta, they must have my permission to do so and I must be informed of the answer." The Prince stamped his foot.

"Again, I repeat to you, the capacity to have good intelligence means that a president can make good calls about fighting this war on terror..."

"Enough!" Vegeta raised his hand and shot a ki blast at the poor president, his rage magnifying when the president appeared unharmed from his deadly attack. "No, this cannot be! I am Vegeta! Lord of all who walk in parks! Answer me fool!"

"Now, let me…this is very…this is a vital question..." The president stiltedly yammered away, his face melting off to show a shiny tin robot from the good 'ol US of A. He began to haphazardly stumble towards Vegeta – determined to win over another voter.

"Go back, go back, Fool! The way is paved with carpet snakes and you wear nothing but sneakers!" Vegeta held up a hand warningly, urging to machine to turn back. "There are snakes coming out of the ground…I'd step on them but I don't want to get my boots dirty…"

The robot Bush looked around and analysed the ground. Deducted that there were no snakes and that this was merely a clever ruse concocted by this clever voter. He rumbled forth, arms outstretched as random digital gibberish emanated from his speaker mouth.

"In other words, you can't rely upon a madman -- and he was a madman -- you can't rely upon him making rational decisions when it comes to war and peace. And it's too late, in my judgment, when a madman who has got terrorist connections is able to act."

Vegeta, horrified by the clever android – which had seen through his very clever snake plot, hurriedly picked up a rock from the ground and held it out to the machine. "Look, shiny oil rock!"

The machine paused and looked hungrily at the ordinary rock. Being a greedy machine, the Bush robot decided that even if the rock _wasn't _an oil rock, he could always pretend it way excavate the parklands in case their were more oil rocks.

"Take your rock and go shiny, demon robot! I know my entitlements I expect half of all you own plus a dental plan!" The prince haughtily turned and walked away – ignoring the robot and is continued to ramble wildly, clutching the 'oil rock' to it's hard metal chest, his cold heart not bothering beat.

"We've got to deal with Social Security as well. As you know, I mean, these entitlement programs need to be dealt with...." The Bush robot trundled away.

**~*~**

**The end…this story has no meaning, no plot and no secret message in it (my brain has congealed into a pile of seaweed)…so I bid you goodnight.**

**I took Bush's words right out of his mouth – you can find his real speech here: **


End file.
